


Our Own Way

by Romancemesomeziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Sex, Shameless Smut, mention of fake media relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:57:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romancemesomeziam/pseuds/Romancemesomeziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam comes back from a forced bearded date, to find a not so happy Zayn waiting for him</p><p>or</p><p>Zayn manhandling Liam.</p><p>or</p><p>So Liam purposely broke Zayn's every rule lately, craving to be marked and dominated, to be owned and permanently damaged because the bruises on his skin were his fuck you to the world. They meant more than the cheap ring on a purple haired girl, they were their promises to one another, their way of saying forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Own Way

**Author's Note:**

> I got bored, and for some reason this came to my mind at work today so I decided to write it down! 
> 
> Cheers to Zayn-loves-Leeyum.tumblr.com for encouraging me, this one goes out to you babe. I hope you like it!

"You smell like her," groaned Zayn, before the door even shut behind Liam, their shared room bathing in the dimming light of the evening.

He could see Zayn's shadow cast across the wall next to the sliding door leading out to the patio, smoke seeping through the screen door that separated them. It was the all too familiar scent of nicotine and Gucci by Gucci that had Liam craving plush lips and fingers digging in his hips, leaving bruised fingerprints.

"Yes, well you can thank Louis's idiotic plan of leaking a video of you two smoking weed for that," muttered Liam as he stripped his shirt, tossing it to the ground in the growing pile of their clothing. Caroline would definitely have a fit, they just kept changing clothes and never remembered which shirt was whose. Truthfully, Liam did it on purpose on most days, loving the smell of Zayn's personal aroma on his clothing and feeling a possessive sting of lust spark through him every time he saw Zayn wearing his plaid shirts.

Hearing the squeaking of the sliding door resonate through the badly insulated room, Liam peered up to find a half dressed Zayn enter the room. His hair was flat upon his forehead, stubble peppered across his jaw in that delicious way that always had Liam's mind wandering to the burn marks left in the inside of his thighs.

"You know perfectly well why we did that," whispered Zayn, eyes cast down as if ashamed that their actions had come to this, that it was the only way to finally be themselves.

Nodding, even if he knew Zayn couldn't see him, Liam turned his back on the other man, opening his laptop to check how much pictures the paparazzi had actually managed to snag of him and Sophia. If there weren't at least 2 or 3 headlines, Liam knew management would force him out again, and he had no plans to do anything but watch marvel reruns on TV with a glass of Jack and possibly his lips attached to Zayn's.

Clicking the browser open, he could immediately see the regular thousands of new tweets to his dash, now accompanied by candids of him and Sophia holding hands, from various angles, but essentially all the same. He starred at the images for a few moments, wondering how anyone could believe they were in a real relationship. He hated having to do this sort of damage control, to fake a relationship and be someone he wasn't just for the good of his career. But the life he had now, the touring, writing songs and singing for hundreds of thousands of people was what he had always wanted, so he pushed aside his guilt, silently scrolling through his feed until he felt a cold hand grip tightly at his hip.

"Didn't you hear what I said," growled Zayn, his chin digging itself a comfortable place into Liam's shoulder as he pressed his body to the curve of Liam's back, his other hand settling on Liam's stomach. "We have rules, babe".

"I didn't want to waste time," tried Liam, rolling his hips back so he could feel all of Zayn's body against his. He groaned shamelessly when he felt a strong thigh being pushed in between his own legs, rocking back into the touch.

 Paul had dragged him out of bed this morning at an unruly hour, claiming Liam had to make a public appearance to cool things down in the media. It was the last thing Liam had wanted to do really, wrapped in the warmth and perfection of his shared bed with Zayn, but he knew better than to deny management. He was their scapegoat, always had been and he had long learned to accept his role of Daddy Direction.

But now that his duty was done, that he could use the rest of his free time to his own will, he didn't want to waste a second, not even to shower away the lingering flowery smell of the girlish perfume he'd come to despise.

"Missed you," Liam moaned as skimming fingers traced the lines of his abdomen, dipping below the waist band of his jeans, as Zayn rocked forward, into him.

It was slow and delicate, barely felt upon his warm skin, sending shivers down his spin.

"Zaynnn".

"Don't," interrupted the shorter man, teeth grazing the ridge of Liam's ear. "I never come home to you smelling of her, never".

"I know," whispered Liam, trying to turn to face his boyfriend but steady hands kept him anchored, unable to move he twisted his head back, lips falling upon Zayn's temple. "Make me smell like you".

Instantly, Liam felt a hand cup him through his boxers, forcing a breathless grunt to escape his mouth, but before he could beg Zayn for more, the pressure was removed and he was shoved roughly into the nearby wall. The angle was awkward, his feet barely touching the ground as Zayn's leg returned between his thighs, adding a delicious pressure but the hard plaster against his back had him panting. He could feel a soft spot where his elbow had smashed into the wall, probably broken. But it wasn't the first thing they'd broken in a hotel room, nor would it be the last, and the way Zayn was staring at him, lust evident in his eyes, had Liam completely forgetting any damage they had done.

"I'm not sure you deserve it," breathed Zayn, their eyes meeting in a fiery battle, one Liam knew he would always lose.

 The shy boy that he had met four years ago had long been replaced by the dominating man that how stood before him. Zayn came alive when they were alone, pulling at every fiber of Liam's body, craving and demanding, leaving him sated and bruised every night. Something Liam had learned to want, to beg for and to need. It was now inscribed in his being, etched into his soul, forever altering his own will and desire.

"Please," Liam urged, heat flooding his system, making his cheeks stained bright red and his eyes glossy. He knew how he looked right now, already fucked out and disheveled but he didn't care. "Make me yours again".

Pain stabbed through his neck before the last word had left the tip of his tongue, another bite mark to add to his already growing collection. This one would definitely be harder to hide he thought, but it was soon forgotten when boney hands ran over his ass, before cupping the back of his thighs, heaving him up.

"You're always mine," grunted Zayn, punctuating every word with a thrust of his hips.

And Liam knew this shouldn't work, he was bigger than Zayn, his presence stronger and more demanding but they fit perfectly, Liam's legs wrapping themselves around Zayn's waist in a flash, the familiarity all too sudden. His back stayed pressed into the wall, the pressure digging into his spin as he leaned forth, lips dragging along his boyfriend's unshaven cheek, not his lips. He knew he didn't have the permission to do that.

Lifting his arms to encircle Zayn's neck, Liam pressed his forehead to Zayn's, waiting.

"You drive me mad," admitted Zayn, the golden amber of his eyes glowing with emotion when they finally opened, searching for something, before settling on the fresh brand of his own sharp teeth upon Liam's neck. "No hiding that tomorrow".

"Zayn," frowned Liam, fingers running over the bird tattoo at the base of his boyfriend's neck, he couldn't see it, but he knew exactly where every line was. "You know I-".

"I don't care anymore, you're only mine," finished Zayn, lips attaching themselves to the mark, sucking vigorously, leading Liam into a cascade of curses, tumbling from his tongue one after another.

They rocked into each other, Liam clawing at Zayn's back, desperate for less clothing and more skin on skin.

"Need you," he moaned, scraping his short nails along the entirety of Zayn's back, sure to leave angry red marks.

Seconds later he was twisted around, his back no longer supported by the wall but solely by the strength of his boyfriend's arms, carrying him across the room where he was dropped unceremoniously on the king sized bed, instantly covered by length of Zayn's body.

Fumbling hands pulled at his jeans, pulling the coarse material down his legs, but still around his ankles, restricting drastically his movement. He knew exactly what Zayn was doing, rendering him bound and restless, this was punishment for breaking the rules. Because in reality Liam hated parading around with a girl he had nothing but platonic feelings for, he hated the feeling of her skinny fingers between his own, he hated the way she smelled and the way she rocked her hips when she walked. He hated her because she wasn't Zayn, and because he knew that he could never do the same with the boy he loved.

So Liam purposely broke Zayn's every rule lately, craving to be marked and dominated, to be owned and permentaly damaged because the bruises on his skin were his fuck you to the world. They meant more than the cheap ring on a purple haired girl, they were their promises to one another, their way of saying forever.

The rough touch of Zayn's stubble against the inside of his thigh and the heavy breath ghosting over his now hard dick had Liam gasping for air, his chest constricting with the growing need to come.

"Please Zayn," he said, desperately reaching down to thread his fingers through the soft black locks, a contrast so strong to the feeling against his leg.

"No one said you could talk," Zayn responded, his lips grazing their way up Liam's length and resonating through his body.

Completely unable to come up with a coherent response, Liam nodded vigorously, looking down at Zayn who was observing him from under long lashes, eyes filled with so many promises. Grabbing the sheets tightly between his clammy fingers, Liam held his breath, watching attentively Zayn take him into his mouth.

It was better than words could describe, his body igniting itself with the simple wet, warm cave of his boyfriend's mouth surrounding his dick, sucking with determination and hunger. Liam desperately tried to stay still, to will his hips into immobility but he was lost to Zayn's every touch, thrusting rhythmically with the feel of every swipe of Zayn's tongue. Within minutes he was withering around, groaning loudly, fumbling pleas dying on his dry lips.

When he was seconds away from coming, his stomach filled with burning heat, Zayn licked around the head of his cock one last time before pulling off, his mouth raw from the ministration, making it sinfully swollen, begging to be kissed.

"All fours," demanded Zayn, his voice thick with lust but choked by the way he'd abuse his own throat.

Before Liam's brain could connect the dots, his body was obeying, turning on itself to settle on all fours, Zayn's strong hands securing themselves to his hips before exploring the dips and curve of his body.

Even if they knew each other's physique by heart, they never ceased to be amazed by one another, exploring every new blemish and dip of their skin.

"You were made for this," Zayn whispered in his ear as he bound both his wrist together behind his back, Liam's arms straining under the leather of what he knew was his boyfriend's belt. His mind blurred at the thought of being helpless, his system going into survival mode instantly. His breath caught as the material dug into his skin, certain that it would leave yet another mark.

The thought had him moaning, chest now pressed into the fluffy white comforter that adorned every hotel bed across the world. Liam could feel Zayn behind him, fingers skimming down and across his spin before settling just above the curve of his ass. He pushed back, seeking the contact, his skin begging to be touched as sweat spread across his body, ridding him of the flowery sent of perfume to be replaced by his own musky aroma.

Zayn was in one of his mood, Liam knew it from the way there was no lingering massages, the hands he knew so well only brushing across his body, apart from when pressed between his shoulder blades, forcing his face into the mattress.

By then Liam could barely breath, his airways stifled by white sheets, yet his cock stood as hard as ever, craving release. Then, fingers coated in cold lube were pressed to his hole, forcing their way in before Liam even heard the bottle open.

He gasped, pain spreading through him but his body implored for more, rocking itself onto the lithe fingers that moved quickly, pushing at all the right places, rendering Liam into a muttering mess.

"Please no," cried Liam, his body begging for the torture to stop, he couldn't handle more, his endurance coming to an end. But Zayn knew that the no was really a please more, fuck me harder and his boyfriend simply added a finger, pushing in deeper.

And the raven haired boy was fingerfucking him like a pro, knowing exactly where to touch Liam to drive him insane. Lips grazed the nape of his neck, a animalistic mine branding his mind as Zayn twisted his wrist, and the world stopped.

Liam came, a wordless shout muffled between the crisp stained sheets as he coated the material with his come.

Barely coming down from his own orgasm, his body trembling, Liam tried to regain his senses, scraping together what little common sense he could, but when Zayn entered him, bottoming out instantly, his heart skipped a beat.

He was oversensitive, barely conscious really, but he needed this, to feel needed and used by no one other than Zayn. His Zayn. And so he rocked his hips back with the little energy he had left, whimpering wholeheartedly with every thrust and touch of Zayn's lips to his back. When the familiar hand wrapped itself around his dick, Liam cried out, a shout he knew would be heard by their entire team but he didn't give a fuck, begging Zayn for redemption because this was what this was all about. An apology. He was apologizing for breaking the rules, for being afraid of the world, for allowing management to take over their lives. It was an apology for so many things that were left unsaid between both of them, an apology that they had practiced too many times.

So when Zayn's hips bucked unevenly, breaking the cycle he'd set for himself, coming into Liam with a string of swears and pet names, Liam found himself giving in to the light behind his eyes. He came again, completely sated and with little to offer before crashing to the bed, Zayn's heavy form settled above him, still linked.

They stayed pressed together, between reality and dream without much effort to move. They both knew they needed this, the connection they'd been denied lately by everyone around them withering away in their tight schedule.

Zayn was the first to move, touches returned to their usual gentle habits, tracing the lines of Liam's ribs. When he pulled out, Liam groaned, the pain would be a reminder of their evening for the next few weeks, and he was sure that had been the intended purpose. Perhaps by then they'd be free of fake mediatised parades, maybe they'd be free to be themselves. But really, Liam knew it was unrealistic so he found comfort in the arms that wrapped themselves around him and the lips that settled soft kisses to his jaw as he was rolled over.

"You smell like you're mine, now," smiled Zayn, forcing Liam out of his half slumbering state.

He opened his eyes to find Zayn brightly observing him, hands coming up to cup his cheek before leaning in to share a delicate kiss. It was such a fierce contrast to minutes ago, making Liam's heart ache.

"Always yours," he mumbled, lips grazing Zayn's. It was so familiar, something they did everyday but at the same time it was foreign, a simple gesture they had never shared in public.

"I needed that," finally whispered Zayn, one hand settle on Liam's still bound wrist, his nose brushing Liam's in an Eskimo kiss. "You always know".

Liam smiled, no words could express his understanding, the bond they shared simply beyond anything offered in the English dictionary. And Liam didn't ask to be untied because he understood, understood that Zayn needed to be in control, at least for a little while longer. Almost nothing was theirs to decide, but this was completely up to Zayn.

"What do you want to do?" asked Liam, as he shuffled closer, head falling upon Zayn's shoulder to rest peacefully.

He felt the boy shrug, the mattress dipping with the combined weight before Zayn laced his fingers through Liam's hair, massaging his scalp.

"I don't care," breathed Zayn, sleep twined in his voice. "As long as I'm right next to you, Liam".

"Always," Liam promised, flexing his arms to feel the restraints around his wrist, anchoring him to Zayn, their own version of a ring, vowing their love and commitment.


End file.
